


Behold the conquered

by Reyesthighs



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bottom Jack, Cock Rings, Cock Slut, Cock Worship, Free Use, Gratuitous Smut, Jack is sad, Jack's dad dies, M/M, Murder, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Protective Gabriel, Rape, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Roughness, Sex, Vibrators, War, eating ass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25042654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyesthighs/pseuds/Reyesthighs
Summary: Forced to watch his father die before his eyes, Jack Morrison is now property of the foreign king Gabriel, biding his time and waiting for the day his country fights to free itself. but his country is tiny compared to askya, the country Gabriel rules, and his dreams of rescue become more and more unrealistic as time passes.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	1. #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this work is under editing, so if two chapters don't line up, check up on it in a few more days and the problem will probably be fixed!

I stand by my father's throne, awaiting the news. I tap my feet, drumming my fingers against my arm. I stand next to the massive golden throne, where my father sits, watching the doors as they are rammed from the outside. the war rages on outside

The war had been raging for years, ever since I was eighteen. We had been at a standstill for a for years and it was peaceful. But now that a new king had inherited the throne the other kingdom was making an advance on our troops.

I don't even remember what started the war, something between my dad and his dad. It's been years, even before the war tensions were high, it's no wonder we went to war.

No matter who started it, tensions had only risen when the new king had sent troops to our very door step, soldiers who are currently trying to break down the door to the palace.

A servant lays her hand on my arm, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Sir we have to go’ she says, nervously. “we can’t leave” I tell her, shaking my head. “right dad? We can’t leave we have to be here when our soldier win” I plead desperately, hoping he’ll agree with me.

"No." he says, moving to sit on his throne. “Jack you need to go with Era. Take the tunnels and run” he tells me solemnly. "you can’t just stay here!” I exclaim “if you’re making me leave, you’re coming with me”

Era pulls me back, frantically dragging me away as dad stoically faces the doors as they are rammed again, straining against the barricade holding it closed. Finally, I relent, allowing Era to pull me into the small tunnel behind the golden throne, slipping into the dark tunnels.

The hallway is dusty and filled with cobwebs, and I have to fight from freaking out as I run face first into the worlds largest cobweb. As I’m wiping cobwebs off my face, I slam into the chest of an oncoming guard, who immediately grabs Era, holding a knife to her neck.

I turn to run the other way, my fathers voice ringing in my head “if you’re ever captured… run, don’t look behind. It doesn’t matter who they have, don’t let them get you” I run as fast as I can, pausing at the entrance to the tunnel just in time to see the door buckling under their own weight, soldiers flood the throne room, rushing for the throne.

The soldiers from behind me in the tunnel catch up to me, grabbing my arms and forcing them behind my back. I’m dragged back into the throne room and forced to kneel before the throne.

My father is kneeling as well, torn from his throne with a large bruise marring his face. A strange man struts into the throne room, snatching my fathers crown from his head and sitting on the throne. He looks down on us, inspecting the circlet of gold in his hand.  
Suddenly he tosses it across the room, watching as it clangs off the wall and lands on the floor. I flinch as it does so, breath catching in my throat as it rolls to a stop.  
The stranger turns to me, suddenly, making me shrink back under his gaze. “pull the gem from the crown” he orders, gesturing for the guards to let me go. I glance between my father and the stranger on his throne. My father nods, and I slowly reach for the crown, prying the gem from where it’s set in the crown.

The stranger holds his hand out, a clear gesture for me to hand it over again. I stare at his outstretched hand like I’ve never seen the gesture before. The man frowns, growing impatient. “hand it over” he snaps. My father gives me an encouraging nod, and I place it his open palm, retracting my hand as fast as I can so he doesn’t touch me.  
He smirks, following my gaze over to my father. “do you want to be over there with him?” he asks, voice deep and sultry. I nod frantically. My father is slumped over on his knees, held up only by the guards restraining him. His lip drips blood, having been busted when the soldiers flooded the room.

The stranger motions to the man holding my father, and he pulls out a knife. My eyes go wide, and I lurch forward, being held back by the men behind me. “no!” I sob loudly, watching as the knife is drawn across his throat, and red spills from the wound. 

My father is dropped to the floor with little care, flopping onto the stone floor. His face, once full of life, now bears nothing but a shadow of the light that once lit up his whole face.  
I can’t contain my tears, and they stream openly down my face. The guards drop me on their master’s command, and I crawl over to my father’s body, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. “please you can’t die” I sniffle, blood pours from the cracks between my fingers, staining his white robes a deathly shade of red. 

He reaches up, hand shaking as he grabs my wrist. “let… me go” he tells me, blood pooling in the back of his throat. “it will be ok” he assures. The stranger stalks up behind me, crouching down and putting his arm around my shoulder. “I know, I know” he murmurs, pressing his lips against my head “it’s always so hard losing a family member. It’s ok” he soothes, standing up. 

“take him to a room” he tells one of the guards “I will be with you shortly.” He stalks back towards the throne, taking a seat as the soldier approaches me. I growl, crouched over my fathers body. “go with them.” My father orders, using the last of his strength to pull me off of him. 

I’m hoisted to my feet by my elbows, being torn away from my father as the life leaves his eyes.


	2. #2

Guards drag me away from my dad's body, and down the hall of rooms inhabited by the royal family once they’re married off. the guards drag me to the room with my name inscribed on a silver plate, the one reserved for me when I marry.

The door is thrown open and I am tossed in unceremoniously, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor. Behind me the door is slammed shut, and I’m left alone in the room. Gathering my strength, I rise to my feet, using the wall to pull myself to full height.   
Every room on this wing has a hidden door for maids and servants to come and go without being seen, and double as an escape route should something like this ever happen. I silently thank my ancestors for being so paranoid, limping my way towards where I think the hidden door should be. 

When I was younger, I used to scoff at the idea of having tunnels in case the palace was ever overrun. Who would want to hurt us? The people loved us! Now, I understand the need for them. I press my hands against the smooth, white walls, looking for any sign of the hidden door. 

I find a small indent of the wall, covered by a thin layer of wallpaper the blends in perfectly with the painted wall. tearing the paper away I see it’s a sort of lock. I don’t have a key. The indent is almost shaped like… the gem from my father crown. I slip it out of my pocket, biting my lip. Do I risk it? Is this what he gave me the stone for?

I slip the stone into the indent, heart hammering in my chest. I wait for a few seconds, but nothing happens. Maybe I need to turn it? With nothing better to try, I gently push the stone in so I don’t drop it, trying to turn in. it takes a lot of effort, but I finally get the stone to turn, cringing as the loud turning of gears breaks the silence.   
Cursing silently, I pull the door open, stepping inside the tunnel- and right into the chest of a guard. My heart sinks as I spot the badge on his shoulder, bearing the emblem of the strange king’s army. The guard is older, face haggard and covered in scars. He grabs me by my shoulder, dragging me back into the room and slamming me on the bed, knocking the breath from my lungs.

“stay put.” He orders, stalking over to the door and closing it behind him. How did they know about the tunnel!? What’s going to happen to me? I eye the guard by the hidden door. If I can get him from behind, I can knock him out and take his uniform, I’ll use the secret tunnels to escape and I can regroup in the neighboring country Osna and regroup with whoever else escaped. Someone has to have escaped.   
Feeling my eyes on him, the guard turns to me, face hard. His face softens, however, when he see’s me on the bed, glaring daggers at him. He gets a little closer, staying close to the hidden door and leaning on the wall. I growl, backing up and giving him the angriest look I’ve ever given anyone.

There’s a moment of silence before the guard speaks up. “I bet you want to know why we know about the tunnels, don’t you?” he asks, looking melancholy. I don’t dignify him with an answer, despite how curious I am. He continues anyways, ignoring my lack of response. “I was a member of the Kings personal guard” he tells me. I sit up, he was a member of my fathers guard? That means he’s on my side! He can get me out of here! Seeing the hope in my eyes, he shakes his head. “I’m not going to help you escape” he tells me, affixing his gaze to the wall opposite of him. “I was around your age when I joined the guard, and by the time you were born I was one of the Kings most trusted warriors” he chuckles wryly. “when you born, your father had me guarding the door to your mothers’ room. And then outside your nursery.” He pulls a necklace from under his shirt, a golden chain with an odd circle on the end with something inscribed on it in a language I can’t make out.

“you would cry and cry until I let you play with this” he continues, tucking the necklace back in his shirt. “you didn’t even know what it means” he chuckles. “by the time you turned sixteen, Gabriel was having me give him daily reports on you”   
I glare at him suspiciously. “why are you telling me this?” I ask, cautiously. He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m not sure, I just thought you should know” he says, sighing. “…who’s Gabriel?” I ask quietly, shifting nervously. 

“Gabriel is my king” he says, pursing his lips into a thin line “yours too now”. Before I can ask more questions, however, the door swings open, and the guard snaps to a salute. The strange king strides through the door, dragging one of the many artists employed by the palace. The man’s face is sheet white, and he clutches a few paintbrushes so hard his knuckles turn white.

The king – Gabriel shoves the man into the room, closing the door after himself. “Jack” he greets, grinning from ear to ear. I glance between him and the artist, gulping nervously. He dismisses the guard with a wave of his hand, and the guard pauses, before slipping through the hidden door and into the hidden passageway. 

“what are you doing?” I ask, sitting up and doing my best to look like I’m not afraid of him. “well, todays such a special occasion” he purrs, grabbing the easel and canvas from where they lean against the wall “so I decided to have a painting commissioned”


	3. #3

The artist trembles in his spot, and Gabriel pushes him towards the canvas, gesturing to the array of expensive paints lined up on the desk. “use whatever you need. I want it to be perfect.” Gabriel instructs, waltzing over to my spot on the bed. I glare at him but make no move. He has all the power here; one wrong move and that poor artist ends up like my father.

He grabs a handful of my hair, wrenching my head back painfully so I’m forced to look at the artist. “hurry now” Gabriel chides, grinning “there are dozens of artists employed in this palace, I have no reason to keep you alive if you don’t work”

The artists hesitates, but in the end he grabs one of the nearby pencils, beginning the sketch. Silence fills the room, filled only by the soft noise of the pencil being drawn across the canvas. Gabriel lets go of my head, trusting me to hold the pose as he saunters across the room, taking a book from the bookshelf.

“This place is nice” he comments, flipping to a random page in the book. “it’s yours, I presume?” I shake my head slightly, and he “hmms” to himself. “it has your name on the door” he points out, not looking up from the book. “it isn’t mine” I grit out, forcing myself to remain calm.

He falls silent for a while, flipping the page. “this is my favorite book” he comments, closing it and holding it up so I can read the tittle. “it’s called “Rapunzel”, it’s about a princess, locked in a tower” he continues, putting it back on the shelf and taking a seat on the bed next to me.

I eye him warily, shrinking back as he reaches up to touch my face. Frowning, he lets his hand fall to his lap. “it reminds me of you” he tells me. the artist glances between me and him, but keeps painting dutifully.

“how so?” I ask, unable to keep the malice from leaking into my voice. He smirks, turning to me. “it’s quite obvious.” He says “you know why this whole war was waged, yes?” he asks. I nod, slowly, even though I don’t. “it’s because of you” he tells me, catching onto the fact that I don’t know why.

I shift in surprise, eyes wide. “and what did I do?” I ask, grimacing. “it’s not about what you did” Gabriel says, anger edging into his voice “it’s about your bastard of a father” I recoil at his tone, scooting away from him. Gabriel lashes out, grabbing me by the arm and holding me in place.

“don’t talk about him like that” I hiss, glaring at him. “and why shouldn’t i?” he challenges “he kept you hidden away in this fucking place where I couldn’t have you” he growls, pulling me closer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” I yank my arm out of his grasp. He’s gone mad, if he was ever sane in the first place. “I sent him a proposal” he continues, ignoring my actions. “ten thousand men for your hand. He didn’t even read it before he denied it” Gabriel seethes, hands clenched in fists. 

Seeing me slowly leaning away from me, he takes a deep breath, calming himself. “but it’s ok now” he reminds himself, turning his attention back to me “I have you now, everything is ok.” He reaches out, grabbing my head and turning it back towards the artist. “now, sit still for your painting, I want to have something to remind me of the day I got you for myself” he tells me, hand snaking it’s way down to my thigh. I whimper as he slowly pulls the zipper of my pants down, slowly slipping his hand inside my pants and pulling my underwear down. I gasp lightly as his rough, calloused hand wraps around my member, pulling it out of my pants.

“make sure to get the exact shade of his face while you can” Gabriel instructs, laying my member on my thigh. The artist nods, blushing and not meeting my eyes as he reaches for the red and white paints, mixing them into a soft shade of pink before painting on the canvas with light strokes. 

Gabriel stands up, admiring me from afar. “I will be back shortly, do not move” he orders, turning heel and heading for the door. “and don’t stop painting” he adds, shooting a pointed look at the artist before closing the door behind him. The door is locked from the outside – where he got the key I don’t know – and we are left trapped in the small room with nothing to do but what Gabriel told us to.

“you’re going to get out of here, right?” the painter asks, nervously. “i-“ I freeze, before gathering myself. He needs me to be strong. “yes.” I tell him, sitting up straight “we are going to get out of here” I tell him, trying to convince myself.  
He looks relieved, good. One of us needs to actually be convinced. Hopefully, I can keep this promise, no one else needs to get hurt on my behalf. I return to blankly staring off into space until the painting is finished, and Gabriel returns.

He throws the door open when he enters the room, startling me and the artists, who almost messes up the painting. “is it done?” he asks, looking over the artists shoulder. “it just needs to dry” he says nervously, setting his brush in the cup of water. “good” 

He approaches me, taking a seat next to me. I bristle, but allow it, no need to escalate things and put the poor artist in danger. “have you been good, princeling?” he asks, smiling. I give him a confused look, glancing between him and the artist, who gives the slightest of shrugs. “I hope you have, I have a reward for you” he says, stroking my cheek. “what is it?” I ask him cautiously, ready to run at any notice. Gabriel gently pushes me into a laying position, hand trialing down my torso to right above my member. 

I tense, breath catching in my throat, eyes fixed on his hand. I slowly trail my gaze up his arm to his face, panic curling in my gut, digging it’s claws into my thoughts and making them race. He grins evilly, slowly and deliberately wrapping his fingers around member, running his thumb over the tip. My member, unaware of the circumstances perks up, gorging itself on what little attention it can get.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the very tip and I have to snap my mouth close to stop the small, startled gasp that tries to claw it’s way out of my throat. Gabriel notices anyways, taking the very, very tip in his member and dragging his tongue across my slit. This time I can’t contain the gasp, and Gabriel looks please with himself.

Without any warning, he bobs down on my member, taking me to the hilt and then pulling back to his original position, sucking with all his might the whole time. I let out a breathy whimper, hands flying to his head, burying themselves in his hand like I’m going to pull him off. I can’t make myself move, however, and I’m frozen making eye contact with Gabriel as he peers up at me through his lashes. 

He bobs up and down again, this time going slower so I’m forced to endure it longer, and grazing his teeth against my sensitive skin, sending shudders up my spine. I’m panting by now, barely keeping myself together, entranced by the way his jaw moves as he slowly bobs up and down on my member, making me feel so horribly good.

He bobs up and down faster now, and I can’t help but force his head down on my member as I feel a strange feeling coiling in the pit of my stomach, moaning loudly as I cum inside his mouth, painting the back of his throat with my seed.


	4. #4

Gabriel dismisses the artist, pulling the covers from under me up to my chin. “now, get some sleep little princeling, you have a long trip tomorrow” he says, pressing a small kiss on my forehead. 

He stands up, walking towards the bookshelf and selecting the book from before and setting it down on the desk next to me. “you should give this a read, too.” he says, tapping the cover “I’ll have a guard watch you while I’m gone, I’ll be back for you when everything is ready” he tells me, turning and walking out the door. He locks it behind him, making sure I can’t escape. 

Shivering I pull the covers up farther, tucking myself back in. the hidden door opens, and the guard from before returns, giving me a sympathetic smile. “how are you doing, Jack?” he asks, reaching out to touch me. I recoil, glaring at him. “don’t touch me, traitor.” I hiss at him, scooting to the farthest end of the bed from him. 

He frowns, sitting on the bed and grabbing me by the arms and pulling me onto his lap, holding me still while I try to struggle out of his arms. Growing frustrated, the guard pins me against his chest, holding my arms against my torso. “calm down, calm down” he hushes, stroking my head. 

“let me go” I demand, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. “I’m not going to let you go, sweetie” he says, burying his face in my hair “you’re going to sit in my lap and tell me what’s wrong and I’m going to help you feel better” he tells me, rubbing circles on my stomach.

“I’m not going to talk to you!” I snap, yelping as he grabs my shirt and pulling it off me, grabbing one of my pecs and squeezing lightly. “don’t touch me!” I snap, showing his hand away. He swats my hand away, groping my chest. 

“I wont touch you if you tell me what you need” he says, happily palming my pec. “what are you talking about!?” I growl, trying to use my only free hand to pull him away from me. “you clearly need something” he tells me, looking down at me “is it attention?” he asks. “what, no!” I glare, trying to crawl out of his lap 

“ugh, I forgot how odd your people are about this” he groans, shaking his head. He reaches for the zipper of my pants, trying to unzip it while I squirm in his lap. “no! stop it!” I panic, frantically clawing at his arm. 

He pulls his arm back, shaking it out. He’s bleeding, and he hisses in pain. “what was that for!?” he asks, glaring. “ok, ok. I wont touch you. How about something to do?” he asks, grabbing the book off the desk next to me. he shoves it in my arms, cautiously letting my arms go.

Tossing the book aside I take the chance to dart from his lap, making it only a few steps before I’m grabbed and pulled back in the guard’s lap, earning an admonishing smack to the arm. 

The guard keeps me on his lap until Gabriel returns, holding me against his chest and petting my head. When Gabriel enters the room, he’s flanked on either side by a member of his guard, each of which is peering around him at me curiously. “how are you doing, sweetie?” he asks, gently closing the door behind him.

I growl at him, earning another smack to my arm as the guard clamps his hand over my mouth, giving Gabriel an apologetic look. “very sorry, your highness” he apologizes, trying to keep his fingers from being bit while keeping me silent.

Gabriel chuckles, waving his hand dismissively. “I assume he’s doing well?” he asks. The guard nods, pulling his hand away from my mouth seconds before I can bite him. “good. Now, time to go” he says, reaching for me and grabbing me by the arm, pulling me to my feet. 

I lash out at him, smacking him in the face. He grunts in pain, holding his face in pain. The guards flanking him tense, glancing between us. Gabriel rises to his full height, towering over me. 

My eyes go wide and my heart begins beating a mile a minute. I cower, inching backwards. That was a mistake. The guard behind me grabs me as I bump into him, making me jump. Gabriel turns his attention towards me, and I recoil. “hey, hey it’s ok” he soothes, reaching out for me “I’m not mad”

I stare at his outstretched hand like it’s a foreign object, and he takes the opportunity to grab me and pull me close to him, hugging me to his chest. “come on, let’s go.” He mumbles, pulling me along with him as he walks towards the door. 

I’m gently pried from his chest and handed over to a guard, who immediately latches on to me so I can’t escape. Gabriel opens the door, leading us down the hallway. There are soldiers lining the hallways and bustling around carrying loads of supplies from our stores, and they watch us as we pass, eyes locked onto me.  
Gabriel eventually navigates us out of the palace and onto the front steps without getting lost, watching as a caravan composed of carriages is loaded up with supplies and riches. I don’t want to leave here, I’ve lived here my whole life. I was supposed to have kids and be buried here.

The guard holding me notices me sniffling, and taps Gabriel on his shoulder. Gabriel turns, spotting me near tears. “hey baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, in a sugary sweet voice one might use to comfort a small child who had skinned his knee. I glance back at the palace, and he follows my gaze. “are you going to miss your home?” he asks, I give the smallest of nods. I don’t want to talk to him. “it’s going to be ok, we’ll find something to do with this place” he assures me, brushing a stray tear from my cheek.


	5. #5

Gabriel guides me over to a large, gilded square shaped carriage with doors that slide on small tracks. It’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before, and I take a moment to marvel at it before I’m ushered into the cabin. The carriage has no seats, with only the floor to sit on, in the far corner is a stack of blankets and decorative throw pillows, though I have no idea what they would be used for, as the second the doors on each side are slid shut, the heat begins to rise.

Two servants are left in the carriage with me, and one of them unlatches a small silver latch on a rectangle of lattice wood, swinging the two halves of the wooden lattice work open to let some fresh air in, pulling back the light pink curtains and tying them back with gold rope. 

The servant messing with the windows and curtains settles down, while the second one frets over me, stuffing a pillow in my arms and pulling a jug of water from seemingly nowhere, offering it to me. “you look thirsty, drink this” he orders. “uh, no thank you” I decline, awkwardly. The servant puts the cork back in the jug, setting it aside. 

Another servant walks up to the carriage, holding a wet cloth in one hand and some article of clothing I can’t quite make out pressed between two sheets of parchment paper to keep it from wrinkling. “hold out your hands” the servant orders, holding up the wet cloth. I do so hesitantly, flinching when he grabs my hands and scrubbing them roughly with the wet cloth. 

When she’s done, she passes the parcel through the slot, before walking off. The servant nearest to me takes the parcel from my hands, unwrapping it carefully. It’s a white shirt and pants, which the servants carefully unfold, urging me to take of my clothes. I blush bright red, eyes going wide. “uh, no. I’m good” I say awkwardly, shaking my head. “don’t worry about it, we’ll turn away if you want” one of them urges, handing me the shirt.

The servants turn around, and I slowly pull my shirt off, pulling the shirt on as quickly as I can. I hesitate at the thought of taking my pants off, grimacing. I change into the new pants as fast as I can, burying my face in my hands as the servants turn back around.

“good!” the first servant exclaims, handing the discarded bundle to a servant outside as they pass. “where are we going?” I ask, peaking up from behind my knees, which I’ve drawn up to my chest. “the capital, of course” the second servant pipes up, smiling. I give him an odd look, and his smile falters a bit.

“who are you?” I ask, glancing around. I don’t want to be stuck in here with strangers for who knows long! I honestly think I would rather stay with the traitor guard, and that’s saying something! “my name is Vincent, and this is john” he introduces himself and his partner, gesturing to the other man.

I nod, glancing between the two. “tell me about the capital” I order, straightening out a bit. I need out, I need to learn everything about the capital, hopefully they’ll tell me something I can use to aid me in my escape. Vincent perks up again, eyes glittering as he launches into his description. “the capital – vesuvian – is the best!” he exclaims “the whole place is gorgeous, but the palace is the prettiest thing in the whole kingdom! You’ll love it, the gardens are amazing and you’ll enjoy the atrium” he nods, nudging john. John nods, not looking too interested in the situation.

“what about the capital itself?” I question, leaning forward. Vincent, urged on by my curiosity, describes the city in great detail, telling me about the market and the hot springs. After our little talk, we settle into silence, with me reaching over and grabbing the stack of blankets to use as a pillow. 

A servant walks past the carriage, slapping the side of it as they pass. “looks like we’re about to get going” john says, shifting a bit. Vincent looks excited, looking out the lattice work window. With a jolt, the carriage begins to move, pitching me forward. I bang my head into floor, before the ride becomes smooth again and I right myself. “oh my god are you ok!?” Vincent asks, panicking. “he’s fine” john rolls his eyes, holding Vincent back.

My heart sinks, I don’t want to leave! This is my home I’ve lived here all my life! What will the king do with me when we reach the capital? Imprison me? or worse, execute me publicly as a lesson to all those who might oppose him? I can imagine it, the scrape of the wood against my back, the axe bearing down on my neck, the crowd cheering for my blood.

I shudder, shaking the thoughts from my head. Moving to the window, I watch the palace as it gets smaller and smaller behind us, being left behind in the dust. After awhile, I can no longer see the palace behind us, and I sit down, sighing. 

John gives me a sympathetic look, offering me the water. I glance at it, tongue heavy and dry in my mouth. I’m thirsty, but do I really want to accept help from my captors? I take the water from him, uncorking it and taking a deep drink, quenching my thirst. My thirst outweighs my spite in this matter, apparently. 

When I’m done with the water, john takes it back, setting it beside him. “I’m sorry about your father” he says, after a while of silence. “what good will your apologies do?” I shrug, biting my lip. He glances away, nodding absentmindedly. “Gabriel isn’t cruel, you know” he speaks up again, earning glares from both me and Vincent. ‘he won’t treat you unkindly”

I turn my back on them, closing my eyes.


End file.
